perseus

[eyeofbassman]

1.
romance is a poem
creased by imagination
then ripped down the line

i promised myself a pillow and found
no pillow
an uncomfortably hot room
and a fountain in the small 
of my back

2.
I grimaced into the mirrored shield
at her arm folded and dismal lips
around his,
poor stones prone to sinking 
tossed behind me.
The winged feet helped, hermes
but too high the heavens roar and
the lights below shrink so dismissively
i know the bacchantes are on their way.
i'm so alive i'll be dead some day.